


Paint My Roses Red

by Schmidt1012



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Hanahaki Disease, Last Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Version 2.0, blue roses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmidt1012/pseuds/Schmidt1012
Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.- WikiDean just wanted Castiel to feel better.---Alternate Version: Destiel





	Paint My Roses Red

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen in love with this trope and I want to share it with a different pairing. :)
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> To avoid spoiling the story, I intended not to put other tags. Please, read at your own risk. :)
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> Mistakes are all mine.

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"Come on, don't be stubborn, Cas," Dean begged as he took Castiel’s hand into his, lacing their fingers together. "Whoever that girl is, just let go, okay? Please, look at yourself. You look like shit.”

Lying on a hospital bed, slowly, Castiel shook his head no. No matter what Dean suggested – plead, his best friend just kept refusing it. Looming in his glassy eyes were unspoken words Dean couldn’t understand, but all he knew was Castiel was suffering. And he too was in pain just watching his friend fade.

On verge of tears, Dean said for the hundredth time, not wanting to approve the surgery without Castiel’s consent. “Just let go, Cas.” Kissing Castiel’s hand, he pleaded. “Please, for me. Let. Go.”

With each painful breath, Castiel gathered enough strength to speak, only to waste it coughing up blue petals. It’s the same shade of Castiel’s eyes. Too weak speak, or even to breathe, all Castiel could do was to look at him with utter adoration, something Dean didn’t notice before. If Castiel wouldn’t cry, maybe he would.

“Don’t cry.” Wheezing, Castiel rasped, his hand squeezing Dean’s hand back. “I don’t want you being all _sappy_ on me.”

“Shut up.” For the first time that night, a genuine laugh escaped Dean’s mouth. He hated it when Castiel rolled his eyes, and if Castiel still got enough strength to lift his hands, he’d probably air quote the word ‘sappy’.

Shoulders quaking, Castiel too was laughing, but it was cut short when he coughed up those damn blue flowers again. Only this time, it’s not just petals. Castiel was coughing up fully bloomed roses.

“Hey, take it easy, Cas.”

Even though they both know that their time together was limited, both of them were now at least smiling, just like the good old days. “Just…” Castiel started. Catching his breath, Castiel wet his dry lips with his even dryer tongue. “Just stay here.”

After growing up together, Dean knew behind those blue eyes of Castiel’s were more words that were left unsaid. Nothing followed though, only the sharp whistling sound coming from Castiel’s abused throat. Castiel was just like that. Whenever he had made up his mind not to tell something, his lips were sealed, and no one could make him say it, even Dean – the best friend – himself.

A few minutes of labored breathing later, Dean couldn’t take it anymore. No matter how hard Castiel tried to make it look like he’s fine, acting like everything going to be a-ok. Dean could see right through him, through his piercingly blue eyes. Castiel was acting tough for him.

“She’s not worth it, Cas.” Dean finally said, his throat tightening up with emotion. ”Let go and forget about her.”

“I can’t.” Barely a whisper, Castiel replied. “I believe I’m too far gone, Dean. Nothing’s going to save me now.”

“The surgery could--” Castiel squeezed his hand, hard enough to hurt. “Why?”

Stubbornly, Castiel shook his head again, refusing to undergo surgery, tears starting to build on the corner of his eyes. If only Castiel would talk, everything would be easier. If only Castiel would just let go of that woman. Or if only Castiel didn’t fall in love in the first place, then he wouldn’t be in this predicament, dying.

_If only…_

Unsure of why, his tears had decided to fall on their own, again. If only he could do something about this. Holding Castiel’s hand with both of his, Dean hid his face behind them as if he was praying. But in reality, he’s hiding how his lips tremble uncontrollably. He’s failing though, because his choked sobs followed quickly, in sync with how his shoulders quake.

_You can’t do this to me._

Through his fogged vision, Dean watched Castiel raised his free hand, which was once attached to a strong sturdy arm, and lifted his head up. With a soft brush of his slender, calloused fingers, Castiel wiped his tears away. Even now in his soon-to-be deathbed, his best friend was still worrying about him.

“Why?” Dean repeated. That’s all he could say for now – _why?_ He’s tired. But Castiel was probably feeling worse. Without saying anything, Castiel locked eyes with him, green meeting blue, and gingerly sat up. Where Castiel got this newfound strength of his, Dean didn’t know.

Without any sort of warning, Castiel leaned forward and captured his lips with his. Even though chapped, Castiel’s lips glided smoothly against his, a hint of coppery blood mixing with the fragrance of roses. Just as he was about to return the kiss, Castiel pulled away, his red-rimmed eyes screaming with hurt and dejection. And there, something clicked in Dean’s head.

“How long?” _…have you been enduring this? How long have you been in love with me?_

“Does it matter?” Castiel countered, defeated.

“Oh, Cas,” Dean breathed out as he watched his friend sank into his pillows. “I’m so--”

“Don’t,” Rolling his head to look at Dean, Castiel cut off, “None of this is your fault. Besides, you’ve shown me different kinds of beautiful, Dean,” Castiel said with a smile, residues of blue petals tainted with blood were stuck in his teeth. And watching him like there’s nothing to worry about hurt Dean, bad. “I just don’t want to forget - _to let go._ ”

“But you’re dying, Cas. If you really…” … _love me_. Dean chocked up the words. He couldn’t say it, hell, he couldn’t even believe Castiel fall for someone like him, someone too broken to function. “Then do it for me.”

“You don’t get it, Dean,” Castiel burst out in frustration, his breathing became erratic and refusing to shed a tear. "I'd rather die, loving you, than to live with no memory of--" Castiel coughed up blood, painting the roses red.

“You son of a bitch, why’d you have to say it.” _You can’t leave me like this._ “You know that I… that I…” _That I can’t love you back, anything but that._ Climbing onto Castiel’s bed with a towel in his hand, Dean cleaned his friend’s mouth.

With his arms wrapped protectively around Castiel, Dean held him close to his chest, Castiel’s head resting on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, you know.” Castiel started weakly, talking had worn him out. Dean had noticed how Castiel tried and failed to move his limb, so he reached out to hold Castiel’s hand between them, squeezing to reassure his friend that he’s there. “It’s okay that you can’t love me back. It doesn’t hurt much when you’re holding me like this.”

 _No, it’s not okay, Cas._ Kissing Castiel’s temple, Dean thought as he hugged Castiel tighter. _It doesn’t hurt much when you’re holding me like this_. Hugging Castiel was the least he could do to ease the pain. If only he could return Castiel’s feelings – love – then everything would be okay. But it’s not that easy, none of these were easy. Castiel’s his friend, his brother, and nothing more than that.

As the sweet scent of roses coming from Castiel calmed him down, his tired body had surrendered into a shallow sleep with Castiel’s deep voice kept repeating in his head - _It’s okay._

Half an hour later, Dean woke up inside an awfully quiet room, the low hum of machines were being drowned by his own breathing. Wrapped in his arms, Castiel laid still with his face buried in the crook of his neck, his hand lax between Dean’s fingers.

“Cas,” Dean began, rubbing the back of Castiel’s hand with his thumb. “You awake?”

No response.

 _It’s okay, Dean._ Castiel’s voice echoed in his head. _It’s okay._


End file.
